


A Long Day's Reward

by WifeYamaguchi



Series: Yamaguchi's Vore Adventures [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Digestion, Food Play, M/M, Macro/Micro, Soul Entrapment, Vore, breath play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 17:22:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18609082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WifeYamaguchi/pseuds/WifeYamaguchi
Summary: Neither Yamaguchi nor Iwaizumi were having a very good day.For Iwaizumi, this was the result of a lengthy daily itinerary including tutoring, training, sitting in on his mother’s audiences and counsels, and managing military reports and technicalities. This is, of course, all very draining. He isn’t one to shirk his duties, though, and as crown prince, he has many, exhausting as they may be. It’s all worth it, for his kingdom and his people. And, of course, he won’t complain about any privileges afforded to him either, like the best meals after a long day.For Yamaguchi, though, his day wasn’t very good because he was about to become dinner.





	A Long Day's Reward

**Author's Note:**

> There is a very very brief mention of disposal at the very end, as well as the implication of Yamaguchi's soul being trapped in Iwaizumi's ass after his death. Both of these are beneath a cut, and can be ignored if one so chooses. 
> 
> Also, this is in fact a serious fic. I don't know why you would click if you don't like vore. You know you're responsible for your own online experience, right? No one made you come here.

Neither Yamaguchi nor Iwaizumi were having a very good day. 

For Iwaizumi, this was the result of a lengthy daily itinerary including tutoring, training, sitting in on his mother’s audiences and counsels, and managing military reports and technicalities. This is, of course, all very draining. He isn’t one to shirk his duties, though, and as crown prince, he has many, exhausting as they may be. It’s all worth it, for his kingdom and his people. And, of course, he won’t complain about any privileges afforded to him either, like the best meals after a long day.

For Yamaguchi, though, his day wasn’t very good because he was about to become dinner. 

The Iwaizumi’s were entitled to all of the best product from the micro farm were Yamaguchi was born, raised just to become someone else’s meal. Not all were as ‘high quality’ as him, but all micros were considered delicacies, fit only for noble palettes. He wasn’t certain what exactly made him better than his brothers, but when it came time to make a shipment to the castle, he was very specifically singled out. 

He’d been here for hours already, sitting in the pantry, only retrieved once preparations had begun. Now, he sits in a glass jar in the kitchen, watching kitchen staff flit about, preparing the meal he’ll be the centerpiece of. It seems he’s intended to sate the prince’s appetite tonight. If it weren’t for him, the prince’s palette might seem rather humble. Rice, noodles, broth… a few sides of fish. Yamaguchi is the only odd thing out, perhaps an indulgence. 

As with all things dreaded, an end to his waiting comes, along with the gloved hand of the head chef. He watches in mute horror as the jar’s cap is twisted off, as the hand reaches in and closes in around him. His struggles don’t even seem to register to the man holding him, hand unmoving despite his efforts. The chef doesn’t even look annoyed—disinterested, casual. He’s not different than any other ingredient to him. That he’s alive doesn’t seem to matter. The only thing that matters is doing his job, and his job is serving Yamaguchi up to the prince, apparently in an otherwise quaint bowl of beef broth and noodles. 

He’s slathered in sauces, rubbed deep in him until he’s sore, before he’s dropped carelessly into the bowl, head briefly dunking under the broth as he lands. He comes up coughing, scrambling to the sides, only to find himself covered in darkness as the platter his bowl is on is covered, losing whatever footing he had as he feels the tray lift, carried to what would be his final destination. 

Where Yamaguchi is waiting for dinner with dread, the crown prince sits with anticipation, waiting for the true center of his meal, staving off hunger and impatience with rice and bits of fish, mouth watering as he waits for his reward for a trying day. When his server enters, he can’t help but lick his lips, knowing he’d soon have what he’s been waiting for. Iwaizumi tried to live humbly, to be the furthest thing from his cousin in the next kingdom over, Oikawa, who eats exclusively extravagant foods made from magically transformed people, but there are some indulgences that he can’t put off. Absolutely nothing can compare to feeling a micro struggle in his full stomach, feeling his body win over theirs, make them apart of his own in. Everytime a micro stills in his stomach, it feels like victory. 

A servant moves the other, more mundane dishes from in front of him, making room for the platter holding his prize. 

Rubbing his hands, he watches his server place the platter, and lift it’s cover, revealing exactly what he’d requested: beef-flavored ramen with a micro soaking right in the middle, looking at him in horror. 

He doesn’t go straight for the micro, of course. It’d feel disappointing to grab it before it could work up a fight, try to escape. So instead, his chopsticks grab at noodles, and he lets the micro watch as he slurps them noisily, cheeks filling with the noodles.

Yamaguchi can barely remember to breath as he watches the man in front of him casually enjoy the meal he was a part of. Fear grips his entire body. And ultimately, that fear forces him to move. He doesn’t want to be eaten, to be food, to be fat on some royal’s gut. So he grabs at the rim of the bowl, forcing his feet to take purchase despite the curve of the bowl and the broth making him slip. 

And then a pair of chopsticks knocks him back. For a moment, he’s under the broth, unbreathing, before the chopsticks lift, letting him cough for air on the surface. Just as soon as he breaches the surface and fills his lungs, he’s dunked again, the process repeating as he’s toyed with. 

He’s not sure how long it goes on, just that by the time it’s over, he feels as though it’d been hours, though the broth is still warm. He leans against the side of the bowl, too spent to struggle again, as the chopsticks loom over him, dipping down to grab him by the chest. He can’t struggle yet, not so soon, just gripping at the chopsticks holding at him takes all he has. He can’t do anything as he’s drawn towards the prince’s mouth, helpless at his lips wrap around his feet, and the prince begins slurping him in just as he had the ramen. It’s all he can do to maintain his grip on the chopsticks as he’s pulled in. But he can’t hold out for long; even just the mouth of the man eating him alive is stronger than a micro like him could ever be.

Bit by bit, he slips into the maw, as he stares up into the uncaring eyes of a predator. It’s easy to see this as an act of cruelty, but to him, he’s just food, isn’t he? He sobs openly as the chopsticks part, and there’s nothing left to help him against the pull of the mouth as he glides over a tongue. He’s almost immediately shoved into the side of mouth, cheek bulging with his form, pulled back right after for the tongue to roll over him, tasting him. Again, he’s toyed with, tossed about from cheek to cheek until he isn’t even sure what way is up and what ways is down. 

And then, all too suddenly, his prison tilts, and he falls backwards into a fleshy chute.

Iwaizumi can feel the micro as it slowly descends down his throat, watching the lump through his reflection in the silver platter with a smile, his treat squirming the entire way. He pats his stomach as his prey finally lands, belching into a cloth napkin as it displaces chewed up bits of food.

Then, while enjoying the feeling of the micro moving inside him, he resumes eating. 

Yamaguchi is forced to endure the heat and stale air of the stomach as chewed up bits of noodles, rice and fish land on top of him, ruining any attempt to orient himself in the organ, sobbing pathetically as he tries to stand, to pound against the stomach walls, to beg to someone who can’t even hear him, that doesn’t consider him a person, who thinks he’s exactly where food belongs. 

The stomach loses room quickly, the prince gorging himself now that his treat is inside him, eager for the feeling of the micro pinned and squirming against the walls of his prison by piles of food. 

And so he is. He has no room to move, soon, pressed against the fleshy confines, unable to do much more than squirm and cry.

Soon enough, he can feel his predator belching once more, then standing and walking to who knows where. He doesn’t really last long enough to wonder, consciousness fading as acids fill the chamber.

————————————————————————————————————————

In the morning, Iwaizumi would find that his ass was a pleasant bit plumper, something he’d notice when it came time to dispose of last night’s meal. Micros may be small, but they have a way of sticking around. 

Oikawa even seems to think their souls stick around once their bodies are gone, binding to the bodies of those that eat them. 

He thinks it’s a bit silly to think food could have souls, though.

Yamaguchi might disagree, as Iwaizumi slips his underclothes on.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any requests (no promises, but certain actions involving my pinned post may help your case) or complaints (I enjoy them very much) you can find me on twitter at: twitter.com/bottomyamaguchi
> 
> (if ur into both anime boys and vore hmu i need more fandom vore friends)


End file.
